


Razzmatazz

by mediumrawr



Category: Fringe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/F, Femslash, Future Fic, Porn with Feelings, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 18:25:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediumrawr/pseuds/mediumrawr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Etta," she says, her voice carrying just a hint of reprimand. "You knew I wasn't going to sign your stupid form. Why don't you just get to what you really came here for?"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I step into her personal space then, letting a knee slide between her legs. "Is that so?"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Do it," she says.</i>
</p><p>Future-fic. Or... AU? Or... look, it's set about two decades after that scene at the end of the finale.</p><p>Written for Porn Battle XIV prompts: <i>pictures, wall!sex</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Razzmatazz

Astrid opens her front door for me, and I know she thinks I don't even notice the _look_ on her face when I go through it. That look says _Oh, it's another one of these_. That just fuels it. I spin around in her hall and I raise my finger to point at her, and she's... not even facing me. She's just calmly closing the door.  
  
Feeling like an idiot, I let my hand fall.  
  
"Good day at work?"  
  
"That fucktard Tours won't sign off on my LOYALTY Act covert search request on this case I'm working."  
  
"I'm sorry," she says. She still has that infuriating half-smiling look on her face. Now it says _I know how this conversation is going to go_. "But you shouldn't talk about a senior agent that way."  
  
"It's true!" I throw up my hands, the left one still holding the offending form.  
  
"I know it's true," she says.  
  
"Just sign the thing," I say, waving it in her face. "Let me go catch this guy."  
  
"Well, that's not going to happen."  
  
"Listen," I say. I step into her personal space, and she just raises her eyebrows at me. "Listen, this guy did it. I know he did it. My partner knows he did it, everyone who's actually looked at the casefile knows he did it, but Tours didn't."  
  
Astrid frowns. "I haven't looked at the file, so - "  
  
"I brought that too," I interject triumphantly. "You can look it over-"  
  
"But... I'm not going to overrule your Division Chief because you asked me to, Etta. This is what those rules are _for_."  
  
"It's not really overruling him. It's more like standing in for him. Any Division Chief can sign it, and you're a Division Chief."  
  
"Etta," she says, her voice carrying just a hint of reprimand. "You knew I wasn't going to sign your stupid form. Why don't you just get to what you really came here for?"  
  
I step into her personal space then, letting a knee slide between her legs. "Is that so?"  
  
"Do it," she says.  
  
And I'm on her. I don't bother with her lips just yet; there's a spot a millimeter above her eyebrow that she finds especially sensitive, and that's my first target. I give it one kiss and then graze it with my teeth, a maneuver that has worked well in the past. When I pull back again, Astrid's eyes have shut delicately. Her jaw hangs just a fraction of an inch open. She sways into me as I pull away.  
  
Then she sighs and her eyes open again. "If you're here to take me, Etta, don't be a pussy about it."  
  
I push back into her. That filthy mouth makes my pussy twinge, and she knows it does, and I know she saves it for me. That last part makes it even better. I unbuckle her belt quickly and then, with a smiling flourish, rip the whole thing from her body in a single sharp tug. The force of it makes her fall into me and she gasps. Then I'm onto her fly.  
  
The jeans and the panties under them come down off her hips with some work on my part and some incredibly sexy wriggling on hers. After the day I've had, I'm too worked up to wait for this, so I just pull them down below her knees, put my foot on them, and bodily lift her until they come off.  
  
"Jesus, you're strong," Astrid says.  
  
"Like that, do you?" And then I push her back into the hallway wall so hard the pictures shake, and I follow her as I do so she barely has space to wiggle. I like it when Astrid wiggles, so long as she does it against me.  
  
"I kind of do," she breathes. I can't decipher her expression as she watches my face, though I loom down to really see it. Sometimes there are so many things going on behind her eyes at once that I can't begin to make sense of it.  
  
Fuck making sense of it anyway. I put my left hand over her slit and cup it so I can really feel how wet she is for me. I put my right hand on her chin and lift her head until the back hits the wall, and then I really kiss her. She moans into my mouth and I slip her a little tongue and, at just the moment when she starts to get a handle on this situation, I pick her up again and push her back into the wall. She gets the idea immediately, wrapping her legs around my.  
  
I think, with one hand and my thighs positioned right and my weight pushing her back into the wall, I can hold her like this. That leaves my lips and one hand free - more than enough. Plus this angle gives me access to her neck, and I don't often get that.  
  
"To think," she groans, as I nip at her pulse point, "I'm reduced to being someone's booty call."  
  
"I wanted to tell my parents," I remind her, and her laugh echoes against my chest. Trying to work my hand into the tiny gap between her pelvis and mine distracts me a little.  
  
"Etta, if anyone in the world could murder me and never get caught - "  
  
I interrupt her (admittedly true) point with one of my own, specifically my finger finding her clit.  
  
"Oh, that's good," she says. We can't really look at each other from this angle, but I can feel her breaths against my chest and her hands bunching in the back of my jacket and, when I finally work one finger into her wet, warm slit, I can hear her gasping next to my ear.  
  
"You like that?" I ask.  
  
"You know," she says.  
  
If she can still be that catty, I'm not fucking her hard enough. I push in my middle finger beside the index inside her, and while she's getting used to that I move my hips.  
  
"Fuck!"  
  
That's better. I move them again.  
  
"Fuck!" Her head thumps back against the wall. One of the hanging pictures falls to the ground. Maybe she doesn't notice. Maybe I've fucked the caring out of her. This method seems to be working.  
  
I roll my hips deliberately, feeling the way it moves my pelvis into my hand into her pussy. She doesn't do much more than squeeze her legs around me, trying to move our bodies even closer together. I guess the prosaic way of saying it is that I'm humping her against the wall. But when her head is lolled back I can watch her face - her eyes closed, her curls a mess, her mouth just wrapping itself around a silent _fuck_ over and over again - and think she's the most beautiful thing in the world.  
  
Dad said once he tried to make me call her "Aunt Astrid" when I was young, and she shut that down so fast she actually scared him. I thank God for that every day, really.  
  
Astrid's word changes - it takes a few repetitions before I get it: _need_.  
  
There should be an Olympic Games for finding a lover's clit with just a palm and thumb, unable to see what you're doing and with less than an actual hand's width of space to work in. It only takes me about five or ten seconds, and then I think I've got it and I push into her again.  
  
Her legs clamp down around me. Her arms pull so hard my jacket rides up on my head. I keep going through it, though her constant jerking about is actual murder on my back and thighs. When she finally stills I let her down softly.  
  
Astrid takes another moment to breathe.  
  
"I do want to tell my parents about us," I say.  
  
"I know," she says.  
  
We both know that this is the real reason I'm so worked up. I haven't worked out if I'm in love with Astrid yet, but we're good enough together that I want to go on dates without looking over my shoulder and give us a real shot. I know that Astrid is probably right about the way Mom will react, and I know that Astrid thinks of Mom as closer than a sister. I can't blame her for what she values - couldn't even if I didn't value the same - but the best thing we'll ever have together is amazing sex against the wall if she doesn't decide to gamble with me on this thing we might have together.  
  
The picture that fell to the floor is one I know well - every house I've ever been to for an old Fringe Division get-together has one up somewhere prominent. There's Uncle Phillip and Aunt Nina, framing the picture, and there's Dad standing with Grandpa Walter, who I don't remember but know by the stories, and there's Mom, seated, with infant me clutched to her chest, and next to her is Astrid, who looks almost the same as she does today, but for a few lines around her eyes.  
  
Astrid says, "Did you - "  
  
"I'm good," I say. I pick up the LOYALTY form where it fell, in our haste, to the floor. "I got what I came here for. I'm gonna grab a coke from the fridge, though. It's sort of a drive to get back to the office."  
  
She's nodding as I head into the kitchen. I grab from the fridge one of the nice glass bottles, the ones she has kept stocked here my whole life, and I turn back toward the front door.  
  
Astrid is standing in my way, holding her pants absurdly in one hand. I can see her pussy. If I tried to take her again, now, she would let me. "Etta," she says seriously, "I'll think about it. I will."


End file.
